


Birthday Boy

by DizzyRedhead



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 02:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12695019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: After the cameras go off, Ian and JR have plans for Tyler's birthday.





	Birthday Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first of all, please don't ever show this to any of these actors. This is my first venture into RPF and I blame Messrs. Bohen, Bourne, and Hoechlin for being public fucking menaces. I also blame Dana for showing me the fucking video in the first place. Which video? [This video](http://doctortay.tumblr.com/post/165457991832/allthetylertalk-scruffysterek-tyler-hoechlin). You can't tell me this isn't how porn starts. So my brain wrote porn.

When Ian shuts off the live feed, Tyler expects him to move, for them to unfold themselves from the tiny space of the enclosed cabana where they were filming. He’s feeling good, warm and a little buzzed from the beer they’d had earlier, enough that he regrets the upcoming necessity of moving.

Instead, JR shifts, his arm and leg a little more firmly across Tyler’s. Ian sets the phone aside and settles back into his spot, leaning in like he’s going for another cheek kiss. But this time his mouth brushes over Tyler’s beard, finally landing in the hollow under his ear at the same time his hand comes to rest up high on Tyler’s thigh. Really,  _ really _ high.

“What--?” Tyler questions, trying to ignore the probably-inappropriate shiver running through his body. This is just Ian and JR being their boisterous, affectionate selves, he tells himself sternly. It doesn’t mean--what his idiot cock is trying to tell him it means.

“What do you think, birthday boy?” JR asks, his voice rich and amused. His hand is there suddenly, too, even higher on Tyler’s other thigh. “We’re all done with the promo shit. You gonna let us make you feel good?”

Tyler’s brain stutters to a halt, but fortunately he doesn’t have to reply with words, because Ian is kissing him, hot and hungry. He moans into the kiss when someone’s hand slides up to curve over his cock, half-hard in his shorts and apparently not so much confused as ahead of his brain for a change.

When Ian pulls back, JR is turning his head the other way, brushing his baseball cap off to fall unheeded somewhere and licking into his mouth slowly and deliberately. Tyler whimpers a little when the hand on his cock disappears, but then there’s the delicious release of pressure as someone pulls the zipper down and tugs at the elastic of his boxers until his cock springs free, fully hard in the humid air.

“Yeah,” JR purrs, pulling back to catch Tyler’s earlobe between his teeth. “He’s good with his hands, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” Tyler stutters, his breath catching in his throat as Ian’s--it’s Ian’s hand, wrapping confidently around his cock, a little too dry but still so fucking good. 

JR’s mouth curves against his neck. “Just wait until he uses his mouth.”

Ian flashes him a grin as he bends over, ridiculously flexible. Tyler’s brain pretty much shorts out at the overload of sensation, JR’s hand sliding up under the hem of his t-shirt, the wet heat of Ian’s mouth on his cock, JR’s mouth on the most sensitive part of his neck. 

“Go ahead, fuck his mouth,” JR murmurs, stroking his fingers through Tyler’s chest hair. “He likes it.”

Tyler brings his hand up hesitantly to rest on the back of Ian’s head, not pressing, just threading his fingers through the surprisingly soft hair there. Ian makes an impatient noise around Tyler’s cock, reaching up to cover Tyler’s hand with his own and push his head further down.

“Really?” 

Ian hums an affirmative, the vibrations against his skin so good that Tyler can feel his eyes roll back in his head. He doesn’t even mind JR laughing at him, not when JR is nudging under the collar of his t-shirt to bite gently at his collarbone, his beard rasping against skin. Not when Tyler is hesitantly rolling his hips, fucking shallowly up into Ian’s mouth. Not when Ian is flat-out moaning around his cock, bobbing his head along with Tyler’s motions to take him even deeper.

JR lifts his head and pulls Tyler in for another kiss, his tongue fucking into Tyler’s mouth the same way Tyler is fucking Ian’s. His hand slides slowly down Tyler’s back, into the loosened back of his shorts, stroking and squeezing over his ass.

“This is just round one,” he rasps when they finally break apart. “Ian’s gonna get you off and then we’re gonna go out for dinner. And then after, we’ll go back to the hotel, and you can fuck Ian while I fuck you.”

Tyler shudders all over from the words, the dry, teasing press of JR’s finger against his hole, the flex of Ian’s throat around the head of his cock. “Fuck. Fuck--I’m--”

“Go ahead.” JR’s voice is low and rough. “Come down his throat. Come for us, pretty boy. Just like you’re gonna come between us later--”

That’s apparently all Tyler’s poor body can take, because he comes as if on command, his body arching up to thrust even deeper as he comes down Ian’s throat, shuddering as they work him through it.

Finally he collapses back against the cushions, completely spent, although his cock makes a valiant effort to respond when JR pulls Ian up and halfway over Tyler for a long, filthy kiss, making noises like Tyler’s come in Ian’s mouth is the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Fuck,” Tyler groans, closing his eyes. He can’t. He just can’t.

“That’s the idea,” they respond in unison, high-fiving.

He groans again, but he can feel the corners of his mouth curling up in a smile even so.

“C’mon, birthday boy,” JR says fondly. “Places to go.”

Tyler opens his eyes as two sets of hands start tucking his softened cock back into his boxers, zipping and buttoning his shorts back, fishing out his baseball cap and putting it back on his head. 

“There,” Ian says finally, grinning wickedly as he darts in for one last kiss. “You don’t look anything like you just got a blowjob in a cabana.”

They both laugh as Tyler’s his face heats, but he laughs too as he follows them out of the cabana.

* * *

It could be any other dinner, one of hundreds, maybe thousands they’ve shared. Except for the way they’re settled into a corner booth, Tyler between them again. Except for the way they touch him, more than usual--and that’s saying something--casual yet charged, every brush of their fingers laden with intent, against his skin or warm through his clothes. Except for the little smirks they exchange, with each other, but also with him, full of anticipation.

By the time they finish eating he feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin. JR’s hand, big and warm, squeezing gently around the nape of his neck, almost does make him jump.

“Dessert?” JR asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners with the joke. 

Ian leans in on the other side, caging Tyler between them in a way he realizes would bother him with anyone else. But with them it feels--natural, right. A logical extension of all the hugs and arms slung around shoulders, the playful touching and long hours spent together on set and at cons. 

“We can always order room service,” Ian points out, his fingers making teasing circles on Tyler’s thigh. “After.”

JR arches an eyebrow. “I don’t know, babe, I plan on wearing you out. Both of you.”

And just like that, all Tyler can think about is what JR said before, the words shoving their way out of the back of his mind where he’d pushed them. He has to clear his suddenly dry throat before he can feel confident in making words come out. “We--we can go.”

The smiles on both of their faces can only be described as wolfish, even though the thought makes Tyler want to groan. “Well, then,” Ian says, pulling Tyler with him as he slides out of the booth. “Let’s go.”

Before Tyler can protest about the bill, he glances back to see JR leaving a small stack of cash on the table as he follows them out of the booth and toward the door. 

Tyler and Ian both give JR a look when they leave the restaurant to find a Lyft waiting out front, but he just opens the door and gestures them both inside, sliding into the backseat after them. It’s a tight fit, leaving the three of them pressed together from shoulder to knee. 

They don’t speak after JR confirms their destination; the driver either isn’t interested in small talk or has picked up on the charged air between them, and Tyler can’t bring himself to care which is the case. Ian and JR’s hands are on his thighs again, low enough for plausible deniability, high enough that Tyler prays they make it back to the hotel before he can’t walk without embarrassing himself.

The drive is mercifully swift, thanks to whatever deities were listening but they have to share the hotel elevator with a number of other people. The anticipation in the pit of Tyler’s stomach coils tighter and tighter with every floor they rise up, with every “accidental” brush and bump of their bodies.

Finally they’re off the elevator, Ian swiping his key card, JR pushing both of them gently into the room. The door is still clicking shut behind them when Ian pulls Tyler in for a kiss, JR pressing up against his back. 

Pinned between their bodies, all Tyler can do is kiss back hungrily, his hands falling to Ian’s hips, sliding up under the hem of Ian’s t-shirt to find warm, surprisingly soft skin. He’s not surprised by the smooth planes of muscle under his hands; god knows Ian sends enough gym selfies. What’s surprising is how good it feels when Ian moans under his hands, to be the one giving pleasure this time instead of passively accepting it.

Tyler makes a protesting noise when Ian breaks the kiss, but then Ian and JR are pulling his t-shirt up and over his head, tossing it heedlessly aside. He takes the opportunity to return the favor, getting Ian’s shirt off as well. JR must take the opportunity to shuck his shirt, too, because when they come back together this time, it’s skin on skin, a thousand times more intense than before.

“Bed,” JR says, his beard tickling Tyler’s neck as he nudges them forward. “We need to be naked and there needs to be a bed.”

As they come into the main part of the room, Tyler notices vaguely that there is a monstrous king-sized bed in pride of place, but he’s much more interested in the way Ian’s hands are undoing the button of his shorts or how Ian’s jeans are stubbornly resisting his own ministrations. He steps out of his shorts and boxers when they slide to the floor, finally getting Ian’s jeans open to return the favor just as they come to a halt at the foot of the bed.

Tyler takes advantage of the sudden stop to slide to his knees, pulling Ian’s jeans and briefs with him. He looks up deliberately from under his lashes--it’s high time he got a little of his own back--as he leans in and closes his mouth over the head of Ian’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Ian groans, collapsing down onto the bed in slow motion. 

Following him down is a bit tricky, but Tyler thinks he manages it pretty well. He loses himself in it for a few moments--the weight and warmth of Ian’s cock on his tongue, Ian’s hand threading through his hair to cup the back of his head, not pushing, just there, the little groans Ian makes mixing with the wet, obscene sounds as Tyler bobs his head up and down.

“Careful there,” JR says mildly, settling on the bed next to Ian. He waits until Tyler looks up at him to continue. “We’re not as young as we once were--”

“Speak for yourself,” Ian says tartly, smacking at JR with his free hand.

JR rolls his eyes. “Do you want to come in his mouth? Or while he’s fucking you?”

Ian sighs. “Spoilsport.” 

“You know I’m right.” JR leans down to kiss Ian’s shoulder absently. “C’mon, let’s move this party up onto the bed. Hoech’s knees will thank us.”

Tyler lifts his head, surprised at his own reluctance as Ian’s cock slips out of his mouth. He follows as Ian shifts up until he’s leaning against the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed, accepts the lube that JR hands him.

“You won’t need much,” JR says casually, kissing Ian lightly and running a hand up his thigh. “He’s still a little loose from when I fucked him last night.”

If Tyler hadn’t already been fully hard, that mental image would have been enough to get him there. “Wish I could’ve seen that,” he says, surprising himself a little.

Ian’s eyes widen, but JR just laughs. “Stick around and we’ll see what we can do. Breakfast and a show in the morning?”

“Deal,” Tyler says, opening the lube and drizzling some over his fingers while JR tucks a pillow under Ian’s hips. He runs his free hand up Ian’s thigh, teasing just a little.

“C’mon,” Ian breathes, rolling his hips up. “C’mon, Ty, open me up--”

Tyler’s fingertip slips inside so easily, Ian’s body welcoming him in.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Ian keeps moving, fucking himself on Tyler’s finger, and it’s mesmerizing. “C’mon, more, I can take it.”

“Told you,” JR chuckles, shifting around behind Tyler and running his hands slowly down Tyler’s back. “Always so greedy for it, aren’t you, babe?”

Ian moans an affirmative as Tyler adds a second finger, hesitant at first, but in almost no time at all they’re pumping freely in and out, wet, filthy noises filling the room. “Fuck, yes. Gonna fuck me good, aren’t ya, Ty? Get that pretty cock in me and fill me up.”

Tyler somehow makes an affirmative noise through a throat gone dry, because he can feel a lube-slick fingertip against his own hole, JR rubbing slow, teasing circles over and over.

“Yeah, he is,” JR says, his other hand curling warm around Tyler’s hip to hold him steady. “Gonna fuck you so good, babe, hard and fast, just how you like it. Aren’t you, Hoech?”

“Uh-huh,” is the most that Tyler can manage. It’s taking all his brainpower to keep his fingers moving inside Ian, three now, thrusting easily. Every spare scrap of his attention is focused on where JR’s fingertip keeps pressing gently, insistently, but never quite hard enough--until it is. Until Tyler has to suck in a little breath at the squirmy pleasure of it, of JR’s finger fucking in and out of him.

Unconsciously, he finds himself matching the rhythm of JR’s finger with his own. A rhythm that Ian seems to appreciate, judging by the way he digs his heels into the mattress, rolling his hips to get Tyler’s fingers even deeper.

“I’m ready,” he gasps, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach as he reaches for Tyler, pulls him closer. “I’m ready, Ty, c’mon, fuck me, fuck me--”

“Do it,” JR urges, working his finger in and out of Tyler’s ass. “Go on, give it to him.”

Tyler shudders all over. “Condom?”

“Don’t have to. Unless you want.” Ian shudders too, as Tyler pulls his fingers out. ‘We’re clean. If you--”

“Only if you want,” JR confirms. 

Like that’s something Tyler has to think about for more than a few seconds. Not that he can think all that clearly, with all the blood in his body somewhere other than his brain. But he manages. “Yeah--I--fuck!”

JR chuckles, dragging his fingertips lightly over Tyler’s prostate one more time before starting to work a second fingertip inside.

Tyler manages, somehow, to slick up his cock, although he can’t help rocking his hips back, trying to get JR’s fingers deeper. His hand is shaking when he lines himself up, braced over Ian, and suddenly everything seems unreal. Is he really doing this? Naked in a bed with two of his oldest friends? About to have some kind of crazy threesome?

“Hey,” Ian says softly, his eyes concerned. “You okay?”

Tyler shakes his head, brushing off the feeling. “Yeah, I just--it’s kinda hard to think right now.”

Ian grins, and JR chuckles again, resuming the movements Tyler hadn’t even realized had stopped, stretching him slowly, inexorably open.

“Well then,” Ian purrs, pulling his knees back toward his chest in a shameless display, leaving himself open. “Don’t think. Just fuck me.”

He means to go slow, really he does. Wants to be careful, just at first. But Ian’s body just--just opens for him, and he slides all the way to the hilt in one long, slick thrust.

“Fuck, yes,” Ian groans, his eyes sliding shut. “God, I knew you’d feel so fucking good, Ty. Come on, fuck me, give it to me good.”

Tyler sucks in a deep breath and leans down to brace his hands on the mattress, hooking Ian’s knees over his arms and spreading him just a little wider. Ian moans as the movement pushes Tyler’s cock deeper inside of him, then again as Tyler withdraws and fucks back into him in one fast, hard motion.

“Yeah, like that,” JR says approvingly, mimicking the motion before adding a third finger. “Is he fucking you like you like, babe?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ian rolls his hips up to meet Tyler’s thrusts. “Just--like that--”

It’s so easy to match the pace that JR sets, to thrust into Ian’s slick, tight heat with each stroke of JR’s fingers inside Tyler. It’s good, it’s too good. “I’m not--not gonna last,” Tyler pants. 

“Think you’re ready?” JR asks, running his free hand up Tyler’s back, stretching his fingers wide, but all Tyler feels is the ache of not enough.

“Yeah,” he breathes, trying to keep a steady pace. “Yeah, please--”

He almost whimpers when JR’s finger slide out, leaving him cold and empty, but before he can, the blunt head of JR’s cock is there, nudging inside in slow, shallow strokes. 

Tyler loses his focus, his rhythm, but that’s okay, because JR’s thrusts are setting the pace, fucking into Tyler, rocking Tyler’s cock deep into Ian. All Tyler has to do--all he _ can _ do--is hold on.

“Fuck,” Ian moans, his hand coming up to curl around his cock. “I’m so fucking close, don’t stop, right there--”

JR’s hands curl around Tyler’s hips and he starts fucking in earnest, punching breathy little noises out of Tyler’s mouth with every thrust. “Yeah,” he growls, scraping his teeth over the back of Tyler’s shoulder. “Yeah, come on, babe, wanna watch you come all over yourself. You gonna show Hoech how good you look when you come? Gonna let him fuck it out of you?”

Tyler isn’t sure who makes the broken little sound at that, him or Ian. Maybe it’s both of them.

“Not--fuck--gonna fucking stop then,” JR grits out, keeping the same relentless pace, shifting his position just slightly until he’s sliding over Tyler’s prostate with every stroke. “I’m gonna keep fucking Hoech til he comes. He’s gonna fill your ass up, babe, get you filthy.”

“Oh, fuck.” Ian shudders under Tyler, his mouth falling open, pupils wide and dark. “Fuck, fuck, fuck--”

Tyler can’t find words, but Ian has plenty for both of them, cursing and begging as JR fucks them--in the tiny working part of Tyler’s brain, he thinks he shouldn’t find that so hot, that JR is fucking him and using him to fuck Ian--but the whole idea is like lightning shooting down his spine. 

“Come on,” JR repeats, somehow maintaining his relentless pace. “Come on, babe, wanna see you come for us--”

Ian groans, his whole body locking up as he comes, semen shooting out across his abs and chest. His ass clamps down around Tyler’s cock with his orgasm, hot and slick and so tight that Tyler’s eyes roll back in his head. 

JR’s hands tighten on Tyler’s hips. “Feels good, doesn’t it? He’s always so--fucking tight--when he comes. You close, Hoech?”

Tyler manages some kind of affirmative noise. He’s close, so close he’s vaguely amazed he hasn’t come already. 

“Good.” JR’s voice is slightly strained, like he’s close to the edge himself. “Come for us, fill him up, come on--”

It’s so much, it’s too much, and Tyler shudders, his hips losing their rhythm as he buries himself deep inside Ian one last time, coming like it was torn out him.

He’s only barely aware of JR cursing and pulling out, of the hot splash of semen on his back and over his ass a few minutes later. He’s too busy trying to remember how his lungs work, and figuring out how to get down to a horizontal position without just collapsing on top of Ian.

He manages a graceless sprawl just off to the side, one of his legs still tangled with Ian’s, and JR follows him down after a minute. They lie there in silence, their harsh breathing the only sound in the room.

“Hey Ty?” Ian finally says, once their breath has slowed back to something like normal.

Tyler rolls his head to the side. It seems like it should be weird, this whole situation, but at some point the weirdness faded away. “Yeah?”

Ian grins, wide and bright and mischievous. “Happy birthday.”

He starts giggling even before Tyler’s half-hearted punch lands.

**Author's Note:**

> If you aren't completely appalled by now, you can [follow me on Tumblr](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com).


End file.
